


with both hands

by loveandthetruth



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Friendship, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2011-10-04
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveandthetruth/pseuds/loveandthetruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Valentine's Day. Sam is aggravated. Fiona is amorous. Michael just wants them to get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	with both hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



> For the prompt _Sam's a third wheel when he's stuck on a stake out with Michael and Fi for Valentine's Day._ I hope I did it justice.

The door opened and shut. Michael didn't look up from the listening device he was putting together. The only people that had the key to the loft were Sam and Fi, and Sam had called an hour ago to tell him to meet him at Key Biscayne later.

"So," Fiona set herself on the bench, eyeing his work carefully. "I was thinking that we could go to dinner tonight."

Michael held back a sigh. "I'm a little tied up right now."

"You're making a transmitter. It won't take you more than half and hour."

"I already promised Sam I'd help him with a job. Sorry, Fi."

"Come on, Michael. You promised me dinner for the job I did for you last week and I intend to collect."

"Tomorrow night? Or maybe the night after?"

"Another of Sam's easy money gigs?" She pouted. "Well, maybe I should just come with you. An extra pair of hands. Get the job done faster. And then you can owe me a nice, _expensive_ dinner."

"I don't think that's great idea." Michael wiped down the soldering iron and put it back in the cradle, straightening up to look at Fi. "That last job didn't exactly go well, and I'm not sure-"

"We all got what we needed out of that job, so it's a success in my book."  
Michael rolled his eyes. "All we're doing right now is surveillance."

"I love surveillance." Fiona smiled a little too brightly and flounced out. "I'll call Sam, I'm sure he won't mind."

\---

"I can't believe you still haven't fixed the air conditioning in here."

Michael wanted to roll his eyes, but as it was the mark was arriving on the scene and he focussed on keeping him in eyeshot.

Jeremy Hamilton, drug lord in the making, didn't wait to sit down before starting to yell at the poor kid who was waiting for him there and Michael winced. Even from here he could see some serious anger management issues. Factoring in the ruthlessness Sam had been warned about meant that if they didn't pull this thing out by the roots, they'd have some serious problems in the future.

Ignoring Fiona's put-upon expression, he said. "This is your job Sam, how do you want to do this?"

"From what Dom tells me, Hamilton is really careful about who he brings in, so I say we plant this bug and see where his weak spots are before we try applying pressure." Sam's voice was tinny from the cheap phone speaker.

"It took you half an hour to come up with that genius plan?"

Finally coming out from behind the binoculars, Michael glanced at her sidelong and she shrugged. "Just saying."

"I don't even know why you're here, Fi." Sam retorted. "It's surveillance, hardly a three man job."

Michael did roll his eyes at that. He turned to Fi and mouthed, he asked you to come?

"Well, Michael said this guy was dangerous and I just wanted you both to be safe." She fluttered her eyelashes faintly at Michael while there was a stony silence from the phone. "And," she added, "if we hurry up and plant this thing, we can all get on with our day, right?"

"Fi-"

"It's Valentine's Day, Michael." She huffed. "One day-"

"It's the same as any other day! I'll take you to dinner, I will, but right now we're working."

"I-"

The argument was cut short by a telltale chirp from the phone on the dashboard, the windshield reflected the blink of the screen, that told them that Sam had disconnected the call.

"Well, that was uncalled for."

Michael let his head drop back onto the seat, trying to think of something placating and noncommittal, and caught sight of a familiar brightly printed shirt across the road.

"Shit." He scrambled out of the car, Fi calling out behind him, and was gone before she could stop him.

\---

She was waiting for him when he got back, sitting on the bench and swinging her legs innocently. He closed the door behind him carefully and she dropped to her feet, revealing just how short that dress was. It wasn't even much of a dress, just a scrap of fabric held up by some elaborately knotted ribbon that left so little to the imagination that it made the pulse jump in his throat.

"Open your gift, Michael."

"Listen, I don't think-" She was stepping forward, dangerously calm, even as he stepped back. "I just came to. I have a lead-"

"I'm sure it can wait."

Fiona had backed him into the door and Michael's eyes were dropping down to the familiar shape of her body, visible through that dress, the taut muscle of her belly where the bow waited, where she was lifting his hands to pull at the tails.

The bow fell apart, tails swinging down from a second knot at the small of her back. She pressed up against him, brushing her lips under his jaw, breath hot on his already warm skin, and rolled her hips. He let his head drop back against the door and tugged at a second knot, and a third, even as his mind raced off in another direction entirely.

"Listen, Fi. Not that I don't want to-"

Fiona huffed a laugh against his throat. "Because clearly you want to." She pushed her hips forward against him, making him flush and push back instinctively. "So, how about you just forget whatever-"

Twisting his fingers in her hair, Michael pulled just hard enough to make her pull away and look up at him balefully. "It's Sam."

She narrowed her eyes and scowled prettily. "You're ruining the moment," she said and rocked against him until he choked and moved, slamming her around and into the door. She launched herself at the buttons on his shirt, pulling it down his arms and off, sliding her fingers under his vest.

"Fiona. Just. He's not like himself. Would you please, please just be…nice to him?"

"Be nice to me first." She slipped a hand down and closed her first around him, just a little too tight and he kissed her hard until she moaned. "Please."

He put his hands under her thighs, lifting sharply, and then stilled, leaning his hips away and making her squirm and cry out. "Promise first."

"God. I will." She said, as he finally, finally sank into her. "I will. Yes. Yes."  
\---  
"You're looking lovely today, Sam."  
Sam winced and looked up from the files on the table. The sunglasses couldn't quite hide the bruising that had appeared on his left cheekbone and blacked his eye so spectacularly.

"Where's Michael?" He asked, already feeling annoyance creeping up.

"He's had a busy afternoon. I thought we should let him rest, you know? He never gets to _relax_." Sam opened his mouth to argue but Fiona just smiled winningly. "But don't worry, I'm here to help you."

Sam scoffed. "I'm sure there's a lot you can do to me, Fi, but helping is not one of them."

He was sure she wanted to say something equally cutting and it almost looked like she would but she caught herself and sighed instead. "Well, I want to. I want to help."

"Right."

Fiona leaned back and recrossed her legs, clearly waiting for Sam to get on with it but it wasn't everyday that he got the opportunity to try her limited patience so he waited until she blurted. "So do you have a plan? Maybe I could come in as your boss, get out the big guns and scare him a little," she got a wistful look, "I still have some C4 from the job in Hialeah."

"Okay. That right there, that's why I don't want your help." Sam stood to leave. "You're a loose cannon and I just can't deal with you right now. So thanks for the offer but I'll take care of this one on my own."

"Come on, Sam. There's no need to be-"

"Be what, Fi?" Pissed, bitter?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"When were you ever helping? You really think I wouldn't realise the only reason you were on the job was so you could get on Mike's case for not getting any on Valentine's Day?"

At that, Fiona wass on her feet too." What I do with Michael is none of your damn business!"

"It is! You made it mine when you couldn't get on with the job. You made it mine when I had to leave Erica to save your life. So maybe you should be grateful that you've got Mike at all and rub it in a little less."

Fi's mouth had fallen open. "I'm not rubbing it in."

"No?"

"Okay, maybe I'm a nag. Maybe I'm selfish. But I'm not doing it on purpose. And I'm definitely not doing it to make you feel bad."

Sam sagged, exhausted and a little angry with himself for losing it. Fi tried to reach for his hand but he pulled away, picking up the files and straightening up. "I'm going to take care of this job. Go be with Mike. Or do whatever you want."

"Sam."

"Later, Fi."

\---

The sun had almost disappeared completely below the horizon but that didn't do much to ease the heat. The low wall of the roof was still hot against Fiona's back.

"I can't believe Sam is being so prissy about this."

"Sam's big on romance. Today probably would've meant more for him than it even meant for you. I'm actually surprised you didn't notice that.

"Well."

Michael looked up from behind the binoculars. "Fi."

"It's not like he actually had to leave her." She said finally and looked down to where Sam, as recognisable as ever, was attempting to make a deal with Hamilton. "You could've got me out yourself."

"He didn't leave her exactly but she made it pretty clear he wasn't welcome afterward. She tossed his stuff of her balcony for god's sake." Michael looked at her carefully. "And no, I couldn't have got you out myself, and you know that."

"Thank you, Michael, I'm feeling so much better."

He sighed and checked his watch. "I have to check out that lead on his shipments. See if we can get some leverage to shut this thing down. Will you be able to take care of this?"

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Yes. No intervening until I'm absolutely sure that Hamilton isn't going for it."

"And don't go overboard with the violence either. Better to save it for a last play."

"Fine."

"And, Fi," he caught her arm before she turned away, "talk to Sam."

She watched Michael leave and then looked down at Sam, feeling a strange wave of regret. "Yeah. Sure."

\---

"How many times do I have to apologise?"

"At least a hundred more." Sam pulled an ice pack from the freezer and headed for the bed, dropping onto it face first with a groan.

"Michael said I had to be _absolutely sure_ before I jumped in."

"And, naturally, that would be after he dislocated my shoulder."

There was a sigh and then the bed dipped beside him. "Here." Fiona pressed her fingers into his shoulder, ignoring his shrugging, until the muscles loosened and he could breathe easier. "Take your shirt off."

He mumbled a half-hearted negative into the pillow and yelped when she pinched the back of his neck until he cursed and struggled out of his shirt.

"It's ugly anyway. I'm doing you a favour getting you out of it." She said, running her hands down his back, pushing down with the heels of her hands and his back twinged in response to the pressure. There was nothing to use for lubricant and the friction was awkward but not uncomfortable and she kept at it until he could feel himself becoming loose and relaxed. "Sam. Turn around."

"Do I have to?"

There was a second of silence and then she said, with what Sam was sure was amusement, "Yes."

He rolled his eyes as he complied and Fi just looked at him for a while. "What?"

"Nothing." She put her hands on his shoulders, running them down his chest and back up again. "You can still tell, you know."

Sam, feeling more and more nonplussed about this whole thing, raised his eyebrows. "Tell what?"

"What you used to look like when you used to be on the teams. Back in your prime. All broad, and burly, and strong." He felt confused as hell and a little alarmed. It must have shown on his face because she glanced up at him and shrugged a shoulder. "Just saying."

"Uh, right." But then she ran her hand down his leg, dragging it back up along the inside of his thigh. "Fi! What-"

"A happy ending?" She smiled like it was nothing and he was so, so lost right then he could barely stop himself going hard under her hand. "I don't think anyone should be lonely on Valentine's Day."

He grabbed for her hand. "If this is some weird kind of favour-"

"I'm trying to be nice." She slipped a leg over and straddled his hips. "I want to, Sam. I want this."

And he bucked up against her before he could stop himself. He didn't believe her until she was tipping her head back, dipping a hand under her dress, moaning low in her throat and he finally untangled his fingers from the sheets to touch the smooth skin of her thighs as she rode them both to the finish.

\---

The tension in the car was literally suffocating. Fiona was sitting in the back of the car and staring at the incredibly tense line of Sam's shoulders, feeling sure that he was going to explode sooner or later.

"What did Dom say?" Michael's voice broke into her thoughts and there an odd silence while they waited for a response and Sam stared, unseeing, at Hamilton. "Sam?"

He started visibly and Fi could see the flush rise in the back of his neck. "What?"

Michael flicked a glance in Fiona's direction and she tried not to squirm. "Dominic? What did he say?"

"He's in a hurry to get this over with. He thinks that we should move on this as soon as." Sam said.

"I think we can afford to let him stew a little longer." Fi leant forward, resting her arms on the front seat and tried not to notice the way Sam twitched, or the way he avoided looking at her.

"Letting him stew sounds good to me." Michael shrugged. "Maybe leave it till after dark and then we can pull out all the stops. He'll do something stupid and the rest will take care of itself. "There was a pregnant pause and long seconds pass. "Guys?"

This time they both jumped and Michael stared from one to the other. Fi hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt. "Sounds great." She said, with a forced smile.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing." Even as she said it, Fiona could feel her face flame. "Just, you know. Hot."

"Really? 'Cause you've both been acting weird all day." Michael turned to Sam. "Did something happen? Did you guys fight last night?"

Fiona said no. Sam said yes.

"Right." Michael slumped back in the seat and they all watched Hamilton pace anxiously. Sam caught Fiona's eye in the mirror for a second and looked away.

\----

Sam was onto Fi the minute she stepped through the door. "I can't do this anymore."

"Can't do what?" Fiona siighed. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill."

"A molehill?! Seriously, I don't know what kind of game you're playing but I'm losing my mind here."

"I wanted to do something for you. That's all. I, for one, enjoyed it. I was hoping you would too."

"That. I." Sam choked over the words. "This morning was bad enough, I don't think I can handle-"

"Please, the only reason that was awkward was because you've somehow got into your head that you should feel guilty. Why are you turning this into a big, evil thing?"

Sam gaped at her. "What about Mike?"

She leaned up close, bare inches from his face. "I don't think he'd mind."

"You don't know that. You can't know that."

"You could always just ask me." Sam's heart hammered in his cheat as they broke apart and found Michael standing in the open doorway.

\---

There was long, long silence while Sam tried to think of something to say. Fiona was just as silent.

"Should I just go and come back later? Yeah, I think I'll go and come back later."

"Stop. Just." Sam flailed for a moment. "There's nothing going on."

Fiona scoffed and Michael cleared his throat. "Listen-"

"Okay, so maybe something did happen last night, but for the record, I blame her."

"Don't be such a girl, Sam."

"What-"

"You were just as involved as me!"

"Listen, guys-"

"That's not. I said no, and-"

"You didn't say _no_. In fact, you didn't even actually say _don't_. So-"

"Guys!" They turned to stare at Michael, who looked a little at a loss. "This is not a big deal. You don't need to worry about who gets the blame."

Sam's mouth fell open. "Not a big deal?"

"Seriously." He waved vaguely at them. "It's just you guys. I don't mind."

Fiona folded her arms over her chest and looked at Michael steadily. "You don't mind."

"No." Michael shrugs.

"I feel like I woke up on another planet. One where it's suddenly okay that I slept with your girlfriend."

"Well, she's not my girlfriend." At Fi's raised eyebrows, he added, "Technically?"

She turned to Sam. "I told you he wouldn't mind."

"For God's sake, Michael. Why are you encouraging her?!"

Michael was sitting at the table, chin in hand. "What are you afraid of, Sam?" He laughed.

"Yeah, Sam, what are you afraid of?" Fiona stepped forward and pressed herself up against him and when Sam's hands came up to her waist, he wasn't not sure if he wanted to push her away of pull her closer.

Michael coughed behind him. "I'm going to leave you to it."

"You're not going anywhere." Fiona said and both men start.

Halfway to the door, Michael tensed subtly. "What?"

"Get on the bed." Sam could hear a pin drop in the silence and Fi finally turned. "Michael. Get on the bed."

"Fiona."

"Shut up." She said, and hauled him back by his tie to tip him onto the bed.

Sam watched, remembering the way she was last night with a vague kind of amusement. He should've known really that her attitude to sex would be exactly like her attitude to everything else. And then she slid up Michael's body in a way that made Michael's breath catch and send electricity up and down his own spine.

She turned, leaning back against Michael's chest, settling between his spread legs and Sam swallowed. "Get over here."

Hesitant, Sam watched for a moment while Michael kissed his way up from her shoulder and the way Fiona's eyes fluttered closed. He felt miles out of his comfort zone but then Michael looked up at him and Fiona said, "Sam," so he knelt carefully beside them on the bed, unsure.

"Here." Fi reached for him and pulled him against her, gasping when Michael's hands find their way up her top. Sam helped him get it off while Fiona worked at his belt eagerly. He barely had time to think before he was out of his clothes and Fiona was leaning up to kiss him, twisting her fingers in his hair. He slid his own hands over her breasts, her hips and down, feeling for himself how wet she was, fingers tangled with Michael's. She cried out, jerked back and Michael groaned at the pressure.

But Fiona was never been much good at waiting and she guided Sam into her, bringing her legs up and locking her ankles. Things dissolve into chaos after that, his awareness dimming down to the feeling of fucking into her and he tried to focus, tried to think. He tried to keep track of everyone's hands and where they were. Fiona had one against Michael's cheek when she tipped her head back to dart her tongue into his mouth and the other on the back of Sam's head where he sucked at her breast. He could feel both of Michael's hands, one on his shoulder, the other teasing against Fiona. His own were on her, her back and her hip, until she took one and led it back to press against Michael.

Hard muscle shuddered under his palm and he fumbled awkwardly with the fly and he could hear Michael's breath go shallow when he finally got a hand on him, but the rhythm was awkward and he faltered until Michael wrapped a hand over his to guide his strokes until he came, warm over their joined hands. Sam followed soon after, thrusting deep into Fi, Michael's hand still working at her until she was keening and shuddering.

It was Fi who moved first, after they'd finally caught their breath, to kick off the messed sheets and bring them down with her where they lay together with warm skin and absent touches, Sam against her chest and Michael at her back, until they slept.

\---

Sam walked through the door just as Michael was putting his jacket on. "How'd it go?"

"Great." Sam dropped onto the bench, running a hand through his hair and loosening his tie. "The cops have got Hamilton. Dom's fine. Case closed. Everyone's happy."

Michael wasn't so sure about that. Sam still had the same skittish look that he'd had when he'd left yesterday and Michael sighed. "Sam, listen-"

"About yesterday." Sam paused, trying to pick his words. "I need to know where we stand."

"Same place we always did."

"I just-"

"Stop." Michael rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the best way to explain. "It's not something you need to panic about. It was just us. I think we're all adult enough to be able to handle it. You and Fi, you're pretty much the only people I trust and if I didn't think we could deal with it, I wouldn’t have let it happen."

Sam raised his head. "And that's it?"

Michael shrugged. "Pretty much." But Sam still looked a little rueful so he said, "I owe Fi an expensive dinner so you're welcome to join us, unless you want to sit around and drink all my beer."

Sam huffed a laugh. "Dinner sounds great."

**Author's Note:**

> "Hold a true friend with both your hands." ~Nigerian Proverb


End file.
